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A Conduit for Rational Thought

There are writings on here from several writers who enjoy the freedom of publishing their work under a pen name. Feel free to send your own sample (if you feel it compares to the content on this page) to info@nukesofknowledge.com. Please limit initial submissions to <500 words.

If this is your first time here, I would recommend starting with some of my Short Stories before diving too deep into my Political ramblings. Four out of five of those stories are true and will give new readers an idea of the type of person you’re dealing with. People are just people; anywhere you go. The differences between us are very small and trivial; generally we all seem to struggle with the same type of shit on a social level. Humans are resilient and they adapt. Humans adapt to their environment.

Generally speaking; the differences between people break down to language, diet, and mythology. Whether economic ideology or religious rhetoric; it’s all hypothetical brain-storm type stuff that I’m going to classify as “mythology”. Diet is largely based on ones local environment. Finally – we have language; which is also pre-determined based on where one happens to be born.

All of these things are just interesting ideas that one or a few of us came up with at some point during our 200,000 year evolution. One-at-a-time nuggets of societal evolution.

Each of those things are cultural; and cultures should be shared. We shouldn’t kill each other over silly cultural and tribal differences. There’s no need for violence in 2014. The level of globalized interconnection and shared media present in our world should be enough for us to see how human everyone else is.

The point I’m trying to make is that if you take the extremism out of a fifteen year old bible thumper from the belt; and the extremism out of a fifteen year old mujahid; you’ve got two average, male, teenage brains thinking about tonight’s game or about the girl they like.

Take ten people from each of the habitable continents and put them on the same roller coaster. They’re going to have a great time together.

We’re all riding on the same cosmic roller coaster through the universe. Our species has spilled a lot of blood over this marble we all live on. From far enough away, we’re indistinguishable from ants. If you’ve ever watched a video of an ant colony; you most certainly will have noticed how well ants get along.

There are exceptions to this of course; there have been wars between ant colonies; intercontinental invasions; and competing factions fighting for control of limited resources.

I guess ants get along when they have to; but completely destroy a competing tribe for control of property and resources when they deem it in their best interests.

An official response to both Brexit and the Fiery Chetosaurus could perhaps be to propose a trade agreement between commonwealth nations that excluded him. Just to set him off. Surely the benefits would be felt by all of us. Having left the European Union, Britain is now legally free to propose or involve itself in a free trade agreement between Commonwealth nations (source).

There aren’t really other ways that it affects us. The Brits made their choice. We live in and die for a “democracy” or at least the idea of one.

Let it play out.

Canada is geographically the largest commonwealth nation. We are the second largest country in the world. Our philosophy and values as a nation are in a prime place to be exemplified by entering into a fair and equitable trade agreement that sets up a cohesive corruption-free institution that spans each of those countries to the ultimate benefit of the citizens of each country; not the corporations that already span them.

Minimal regulation other than that needed for quality control. Perhaps a gram per pound sent for pesticide testing or some such thing. It really doesn’t have to be that big of a deal. This economy has regulated itself safely for years. Piss off.

Mom & pop shops. Boutiques. Cafes. Let it just evolve and stop setting up a situation in which an economy that already existed and should have simply been legalized be swiftly over-criminalized (from a Federal Law point of view) into yet another corporate cartel giving hand-jobs to the government bank account.

The way it stands is that a corporate structure was created for a merging-and-acquiring-pot-economy-oligarchy. Y’all (The Guv’Ment) had the years before the election to research it (though there was already sufficient research to support legalization for almost always) and three years to implement it. The Blue fellers (before the last election) slightly tweaked the cannabis laws to allow for a growth in the “medical” market in a way that supported the growth of very few yet very strong early entry companies that grew under the new odd laws that super-primed those institutions for this corporate legalization that came with these corporately-connected Red fellers.

Suddenly, they just buy everything. Invest everywhere.

Merging and acquiring sends money up. Pot shops and micro-local industries that have existed for years (supporting local economies and businesses directly) are being raided because they provide medicine to sick people and good times to not sick people. It’s not a new thing. Stop pretending it is. Stop talking about it on TV. Why the fuck is marijuana all over television? We don’t have a story every third night on the news about alcohol. Why is Cannabis being discussed and pictures of massive dope farms shown on the news in a happy positive light? It’s just dope. Grass. Yerba. Smoky Smoky. It’s not for children though, you dingleberries. Are all of those impressions on children watching the Evening News after supper at family time perhaps just a little bit like advertising? We don’t have news stories on the daily about cigarettes. We do for prescription drugs though. And seemingly weed now that they can draw attention to it on the nightly news so that their companies can make money and their shareholders dividends.

Just stop.

Open market. Anyone can grow what they want and open any store they want. That’s what ye should do ya wacky bastards.

How can both these statements be true? In the same way that Canadian companies continue to profit off of wars regardless of whether or not we are officially (as a country) a part of that war in a “killing other humans” capacity. A Canadian company supplied a significant amount of the rifle ammunition used in the American Incursion into Iraq.

Not to mention all the Canadians who voluntarily went to Vietnam and fought alongside their American brethren with 134 killed or missing. Or the OEF/OIF combat veterans who volunteered with the YPG in Kurdistan. That organization (the YPG) later being designated a terrorist organization by the West because they compromise the interests of Turkey and the West needs Turkey’s compliance to maintain some of their power in the region. Thus mass media stops covering the death of Khashoggi or outright mocks it.

So. I mean. We’re not technically involved… but we’re also technically involved. It’s sort of like how Canada is definitely totally not at all involved in the human rights abuses being committed in Yemen with weapons we manufactured and sold to Saudi Arabia… but we kinda technically are super definitely involved by virtue of allowing it to happen.

Kinda sorta murky. Watch out Venezuela! Soon enough they’ll be calling you terrorists and invading you in the name of Freedom. Restoring your democracy. Things of that ilk. God forbid the American Military do a Goddamned thing about the narco-terrorism happening below their border for the past 3 decades.

Maybe that’s secretly what the wall is about?

Who knows.

The world’s funny like that.

Just when you think you’ve figured it out; some dirtier naughtier juicier more disturbing layer is revealed. Perhaps the wall is a preparation for a much larger impending war.

Who knows?

That is certainly one dangerous Cheeto they have down there; but the guy holding the bag is even more dangerous. Just wait.

Former Vice President Richard Cheney was the CEO of Haliburton from 1995-2000 when he left to run for Vice President (source). On September 10, 2001 – Donald Rumsfeld announced on behalf of the Pentagon that they were missing 2.3 Trillion dollars in military spending. The next day, something incredible happened and everybody forgot.

So check this historic farewell address from an exiting-President that warned of the dangers and inevitability of a permanent arms industry fueling wars for profit. Perhaps check out the poetry in the second video or continue to Part 3.

Pipelines can be attacked by foreign nations which makes us vulnerable. Coming to rely on a pipeline in any part of the supply chain leaves the possibility of an invader completely cutting off supply routes during an attack. To rely on them would be strategically incorrect. It’s faster and safer in a global war (should one happen because of the sassy cheeto beneath us) to fix rail lines after a supply line attack than fix pipes while mobilizing an ad-hoc truck/rail supply chain if the pipeline get’s neutralized. Better to invest now in greener transport infrastructure (creating trade jobs) that is easily maintained (creating long term jobs) that can be utilized both during and (more importantly) after we phase out fossil fuels. An oil or gas pipeline is always an oil or gas pipeline. Rail infrastructure can be maintained and fixed locally at each stop and can be adapted to every type of transport/supply use as technologies change and our culture adapts. An oil pipeline (as evidenced by the waste pipeline in Pictou, Nova Scotia) will always be regarded as a filthy pipe that will always have to be there and every attempt after it’s useful life of someone trying to fix the situation is met with absurd amounts of legal bullshit.

Add this to the environmental danger that goes along with all of the things; let’s just cover Saskatchewan in solar panels or something to give that power away for free?

*sets down legally purchased marihuana*

Pulp mills can and do operate safely around the world. The shit going on in Pictou, Nova Scotia is ridiculous. From a tourism and beauty point of view; there are almost no old growth forests left here and a casual stroll on the beautiful and historic Pictou waterfront occasionally leaves ones nostrils tasting like a soiled nappy.

On top of that, this pulp mill is proposing threatening a local industry (fishing) and has the potential to destroy fish spawning grounds. The company (more accurately, a series of companies) had a deadline and willingly ignored it for decades with the complete complicity, compliance, and endorsement of pretty damned near each and every local politician of scale-able political significance for the past several decades.

What was that deadline?

It was a deadline to make the first begrudgingly avoided attempt at even slightly kind-of maybe sort-of beginning to end decades of horrific environmental racism against the people of the Pictou Landing First Nation.

Waterfall jumping was on the menu for the day. My crippling fear of water was covered a few days before; why not handle the heights as well. The water itself was not as deep; and the waterfalls not as dastardly high as I had expected. The elevation was alarming; but after reaching the summit – we descended as if sliding down a watery staircase.

On the hike through the jungle I got to know the shorter, hotter, more confident, and most socially powerful member of the group of women that were staying at my resort. All my age. All attractive; from the plump sisters to the toothpick socialite I was lagging behind the group with.

‘Never fuck on the road’ is a mantra I adopted while travelling across the United States. Surely my foremost rule about entering strange women shouldn’t be ignored. I had nearly crossed that particular line earlier in the week.

We walked and talked on the swinging foot bridge; a hundred meters or so behind the group. She was less on-guard than when her friends were present. I tend to have that effect on people. Disarming their defenses and momentarily caressing their souls.

She cared too much about what they thought of her; she had to be dominant in every situation in which they were present.

Alone she was an insecure sweetheart; more than simply interesting to talk to; fully worthy of the attention she so carelessly grasped for in their presence.

Those four wonderful souls from Thunder Bay that distributed the presidential malt beverages on the bus from the airport. Thank you; kind travelers. A brother and a sister; with their best friends and spouses. The brother and I shared the same name. These are good people; people like us; people like me; peaceful wanderers.

That was days ago. Here we are; halfway through the voyage and your tribe has located a patch of grass on which to sit. Why not? I’d thought. An unexpected perch of turf on which to rest ones appendages should be welcomed; not ignored.

Ride the wave.

If you prefer to hear this sentiment proven by an expert; as opposed to this drunken rambling quixotic wander; listen to the immortal words of of the Great Doctor himself, “Buy the ticket; take the ride.”

Such lack of discretion for ones personal safety is the deepest act of faith in God. Perhaps it was the medallion of Saint Christopher I carried; perhaps it was my ancestors; perhaps it was the natural serendipitous way in which this beautiful reality of ours is constructed – but I rarely felt unsafe. The invisible hand of the Universe has a poetic way of guiding its passengers.

The drugs and alcohol help with the weaving of oneself into the fabric of time.

Agriculture is a cultural development that transformed the way that humanity evolved. These creatures, these ants, they farm too. We thought nothing of it decades ago when it was aphids balled up in the leaves of our apple trees; but now it’s us.

The ant overlords have discovered how to make use of us; industrially. Our usefulness is only as valuable as our compliance. These ants have no soul that is fathomable to human beings. The ant-soul is dark and mechanical – powering black-iron suits of capitalism that tower over those with the knowledge and aptitude to complete the tasks that stockpile resources for the ant colony.

This is what an alien invasion looked like to many science fiction writers of centuries past. Insect-like overlords that used coordinated power and influence over land and resources to ensure their own prosperity while securing the bondage of their servants through acts of treachery.

Bastards!

One day we’ll figure out a weakness; a way to stop them.

But that day isn’t today.

Many humans live in the wild; outside the farms; many live like us. They breed us like cattle. The scariest part about the whole situation is that it took not a spoken word. Billions of our human screams reacted to with silence from the beasts. At first, they herded us around the plains; eating us as they got hungry; encircling us in a ringed prison of insect legs and jaws.

Quickly we learned to please the ant overlords and avoid death. We hit fields of sugar cane and corn; and they stopped. They were drawn to the sweet glucose in the juices of these plants. We could also subsist off of such crops.

Our symbiotic relationship developed to the point that the ants showed up regularly to collect a tax – in the form of agricultural goods, from all of us.

Sometimes they eat us; or crush us; or kill us unknowingly; but these beasts leave us alone if we live only with-on our hills – laboring only for what they need from our environment in order to keep them from eating us.

The ancestors told stories of a world in which the ants were small and we were big.